


The Ghost and the Machine

by alpacapanache



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/M, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacapanache/pseuds/alpacapanache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything happens so fast. There's always another mission. Another threat to the galaxy. When will Shepard and Garrus get a break?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost and the Machine

Commander Shepard moves purposefully through Deck 3 of the Normandy SR-2 towards Engineering. She passes a few members of her crew and gives them quick but friendly nods of acknowledgment as she strides by. She’s not here for an inspection or to check on morale, and she doesn’t want to interfere with their daily routines, especially in the off-duty areas. She does however stop for a moment to radio EDI and arrange for a work order on a vent cover that looks slightly out of spec.

She’s been spending more of her decreasingly free time here lately, and she’s well aware that those she meets know where she’s going and why. At this stage of the game, this close to fighting the Reapers, she’s too tired and jaded to care about old prejudices and gossip anyway. Not that that’s as big an issue now; she’s earned her reputation for embracing diversity and she’s certain that certain holovids of her reacting to intolerant bigots have been leaked galaxy-wide. Those who can’t handle her acceptance, or at the very least are unable to keep it to themselves, do not stay on board the Normandy. 

As she enters the Engineering Room, she takes a quick look around. In the far corner she hears the unmistakable sound of a metal on metal as something is being adjusted, but no one is in sight. Shepard huffs in amusement.

She calls out, “Garrus?” and the clanging stops.

“Commander?” 

She gets a glimpse of his bluish-gray head as it pops up momentarily from behind the port-side panel, then ducks back down again. “My apologies. Just-” there’s a loud clang, and then, “give me a moment and I’ll seal this panel up.”

“Of course,” she replies dryly. “I’d prefer to have your full attention.” Shepard is mostly certain he can detect the teasing in her voice, but it’s difficult to assume these things between different species and their respective cultures only complicates things further. Of course, they’ve had some time to learn each other’s nuances, when they weren’t watching each other’s backs and blasting away at hordes of husks, or whatever else was threatening them that week. Some time at least, when the fate of the entire galaxy wasn’t resting squarely on her shoulders. She shrugs those shoulders a little as she waits, to try and shake off some of the tension.

 

She stares past the area where Garrus’ head had momentarily popped up, looking without really seeing. Dammit, she thinks, I deserve more.

She should be able to spend as much time as she wants with Garrus; the rest of the crew be damned. The rest of the galaxy be damned too, but she knows she’s in too deep. The Reapers made it too personal. So she plans to take what she can right now and dream about the rest. Everyone needs something or someone good to hold on to, especially in the darkest times. Hers just happens to be 6’2”, grayish-blue, and has a curious combination of feline and avian features. He’s also highly intelligent, extremely capable and incredibly sweet, which is all that matters. She’s never met anyone like him, and those who feel like she’s a traitor to her species had better keep their mouths shut, lest they end up like that reporter in the aforementioned video…

She’s so lost in thought that she nearly doesn’t notice that Garrus has finished whatever he was working on. He moves over to her, wipes his hands on his coveralls, and gives the requisite salute.

“So, calibrations again, Vakarian?” she asks without betraying any emotion. 

“Of course, Commander,” he replies, just as flatly. An outsider watching these two would miss the emotional undercurrents below their subtle tones, but Shepard fights back a small smile.

“How about you stow your gear for a bit and come up to my quarters for a movie?”

Garrus hesitates. “I’d love to, Commander, but I haven’t finished my inspection. She’s a big ship. It takes some time.”

“It takes all your time. C’mon, you’ve earned some downtime. Joker and EDI keep bragging about how the Normandy is the most advanced ship out there. Have faith that she’ll still be here after a few hours. Or,” and her voice drops lower, “overnight.” There, she’s put it all out on table. Etiquette be damned, he has to know what she’s intimating. 

He drops his eyes, and starts to fiddle with the omni-tool in his hand. “I can’t. I need to finish this.”

She makes one last attempt, “Don’t make me pull rank, soldier. Force you to take a break from work. I can’t have my crew work themselves to exhaustion.” 

“I know you won’t.” He replies quietly as he reaches for his toolkit and turns back toward the panel he was working on earlier. The rejection stings her more than any physical hurt she’d received on the field; at least that was impersonal.

“Garrus, what is it? Have I done something? Have you, did you change your mind about us?”

“No. Never, Commander.” 

Commander. Always Commander. Maybe after this damn war is finally finished he’d be comfortable using her first name.

“Then what is it? Why don’t you want to spend any time together? That’s how it works when you’re in a relationship together.” She shrugs. “At least with humans.”

“Turians as well. But we also take a lot of pride in our work, and it’d be improper of me to relax when there’s still so much to do. We’re committed to preparing for the Reaper threat.”

“And I’m not? Humans aren’t? This whole war started when the Reapers attacked the Earth. Don’t tell me. Turians don’t have the monopoly on sacrifice and pigheadedness!”

“You don’t understand-”

“What about ‘blowing off steam?’ You didn’t have any issues with that when we were together before. Was that a waste of time? You’d rather play the martyr here like you’re the only one who’s sacrificing everything?” The words are out before she can take them back, and she feels the bite of them as Garrus’ face falls. That doesn’t stop her from wanting to throw something. Maybe give him something that actually needs repair. 

“Commander-”

“I just don’t understand you." She takes a deep breath. "You act like you care, but I’d literally have to drag you out of here to spend time with you. And if I did you’d probably spend the whole time thinking about the Normandy.” She glares at him, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you slept down here.”

“Actually. Yes. Sometimes." Is he actually serious? Probably.

“Ugh. You’re hopeless. I shouldn’t have to compete with my own ship. What’s different now? When we had to deal with the Collectors you were eager! We made the most of what free time we had!”

Garrus takes a step closer to her. “You’re right, Commander, and that’s part of it. The time we had together, before the Reaper threat, showed how important you are to me. I wasn’t sure if you were actually serious about wanting to be with a turian. Specifically, me. I was prepared to accept that I was a novelty and nothing more.”

She sighs. “We’ve never had it easy, have we? At least you know where I stand now. I’ve always been open with you. It was never just a fling. We’ve been through everything. More than anyone should have to deal with and you’ve been by my side for all of it."

Garrus closes the gap, and touches his hand against her shoulder. “You have to know, Commander, how important you are to me. We spent all that time together and I couldn’t back away. I didn’t want to. I’m always thinking about you. All this time I spend in Engineering, the long nights, the repetitive tasks. It’s all for you. Our mission is critical, and I know you’ll succeed. You always do. But I need to make sure that you survive. I’ve already lost you once. I can’t lose you again. And if the difference between you coming back is one tiny calibration test, one bolt tightened up, or one more simulation, then it’s worth it.”

At this she softens completely and just looks up at Garrus. His eyes are bright and intense, and if he were human it’s likely he’d be fighting back tears. She moves closer to him, then gently places her hand over the scar tissue on his face, giving it a soft caress. Before Garrus fully reacts, she follows up with a kiss, putting as much affection into it as possible. She tries not to melt completely when he responds and embraces her tightly. 

“I understand, Garrus. I do. I’ll leave you to focus on what you’re doing here, but-”, and her eyes shine fiercely, “after we destroy those Reapers - and we will! - you’re not allowed anywhere near your omni-tool for months. That is an order.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure that I get back to you. And then I’ll show you all my favorite Earth shows and video games. You can show me that documentary you keep going on about. We can retire. We’ve damn well earned it with what we’ve done already. And, we’ll start with “Star Trek” It’s over two hundred years old, but I think you’d like it.” 

“I look forward to it.”

She nods, almost to herself, then salutes him. “Back to work soldier!” and marches out of Engineering. 

She makes it back to her quarters before her legs turn to jelly, and she folds in on herself.

 

*******

 

It’s been two years since the Citadel exploded, the Reaper threat was vanquished, and all organic and synthetic life have synthesized. The galaxy is a mess, but it’s slowly putting itself back together, and this time the cycle is broken. There is peace.

Garrus sits back and tells himself again that it was all worth it. Shepard sacrificed her life, but she did it with great purpose. The Catalyst gave her the choice, in all likelihood the biggest choice any sentient being has ever grappled with, and like everything else Shepard did, she dove right in. Literally. The video showing the discussion between the Catalyst and Shepard were distributed along with whatever else was used to synthesize all organic and synthetic life. Garrus saw it; that was enough.

He wishes he could have had more time with her, but in the end, doubt is what keeps him going. He doesn’t know that his calibrations weren’t what helped them get as far as they did. And he doesn’t see how there was anything more he could have personally done to help her survive. He assures himself of this daily. Sometimes it even works…

He watches that old sci-fi series she’d talked about so long ago. He watches the captain of the starship as he's repeatedly tested by a greater being and how, with the help of his crew, he saves humanity again and again. He fixates on the android, the outsider, and its relationship with the crew, wishing fervently that she could be at this side providing commentary and physical comfort. He wishes he knew more about her ancestors and earlier humans, and what ideals they had when this show was conceived, and what those people would think now if they saw what space travel actually achieved. Things are so far beyond android and human dynamics now.

It’s all “man” and machine now. Organic and synthetic. The lines are blurred.

He thinks back to the day he lost her. Dammit, Shepard. Couldn’t you have been synthesized as well? All that energy. All that data, spread across the universe. Couldn’t you?

He jolts. For the first time in a long time, Garrus goes for his tools. Calibrations. Perhaps, given enough time, with access to the right machine, he might find her. Maybe some trace of her consciousness. If she had any choice in the matter, in those few short seconds before the Catalyst exploded, where would she have gone? Could she have had any control of it?

Garrus rings up Colonel Mathers and requests a special tour of the Normandy, currently orbiting Earth as a memorial station. He’s willing to pull any string he can to get access to the starship, and barring that, he has other means of getting on board.

If there’s any chance at all, he’s suddenly certain he’ll find her there.


End file.
